


A Convenient Double Life

by Nebulad



Series: Perihelion [2]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: "High Noon" spoilers, Fluff, Kisses, M/M, Other, non-canon conclusion to "High Noon"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 00:53:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10651593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nebulad/pseuds/Nebulad
Summary: When Ryder approached again after depositing the crate, Reyes leaned over and kissed him from over the boxes. It wasn’t entirely comfortable, as he was positioned precariously over uncertain cargo and trying to balance his weight angled downward, while he was certain Silas was on his toes to reach his face properly. “Flirt,” he accused between kisses, valiantly attempting and absently failing to climb up onto the platform.And then something incredibly stupid happened.





	A Convenient Double Life

“You really shouldn’t be helping me with this,” Reyes said mildly, looking down at Silas. The Pathfinder was standing on the docking bay with the sleeves of his Initiative shirt rolled to his elbows, looking up expectantly at Reyes who had been hidden among crates of smuggled goods. The outpost was well aware that their Pathfinder was dating the smuggler that kept their cupboards stocked, but he couldn’t help but think they’d be less generous if Silas was _helping_ with said stocking.

Of course, Ryder ignored him and instead pulled himself up onto the platform Reyes was standing on and took a box from the top. It really was convenient, since he’d had been left with a bay full of cargo to unload before the captain finished drinking in Kralla’s Song. He’d planned to vacate the area and have the Collective do it— there were weapons in some of the crates which gave the Charlatan motivation to confiscate them. He could relocate the shipment and distribute it under the Collective’s name, which would be a minor fucking headache; instead, he got free labour. Free, handsome labour.

“Buy me a drink after and we’ll call it even,” Silas said, letting the box drop onto the trolley.

“I was going to do that anyway.” Not necessarily true, although he was certain they would eventually end up at one of the bars. Tartarus had privacy, but Kralla’s had better drinks.

“I’m not paying this time,” he warned. The next crate was heavy enough to take the breath from him, so Reyes very politely waited until he put it down. He opened his mouth, and— “Don’t tell me you _promise_ you’ll pay, either.”

“I’m good for it,” he protested, leaning over on the box. Silas jumped up again and kissed him, before taking the box he was leaning on.

“I know you are, but that doesn’t mean you’ll pay.” Reyes grabbed the box back, keeping Silas well within reach. He imagined they were being studied fairly closely— he had insisted that the Collective keep an eye on Ryder anyway, to separate the Charlatan from the Pathfinder— but couldn’t bring himself to care. It was one of the benefits of leading a double life; no one cared about _him,_ even if they should have.

Silas strong armed the box away from him playfully, so Reyes wound around through the crates to the next-lowest section. When Ryder approached again after depositing the crate, he leaned over and kissed him from over the boxes. It wasn’t entirely comfortable, as he was positioned precariously over uncertain cargo and trying to balance his weight angled downward, while he was certain Silas was on his toes to reach his face properly. “Flirt,” he accused between kisses, valiantly attempting and absently failing to climb up onto the platform.

And then something incredibly stupid happened.

Rather politely, Reyes had leaned over further to compensate for Silas’ inability to reach him. It was partially self-motivated, of course, because he wanted Ryder to forget the crates for a moment and focus on him— it was so rare that they were entirely out of Tartarus, or that they were able to meet in a place where the Charlatan was without his personal datapad (well, not _without,_ but he certainly couldn’t operate it in public). He wanted Silas’ hands to move from his hair to his hips, and frankly Ryder had to be a _little bit_ at fault because what sort of person simply showed up out of thin air to lift heavy objects? How was Reyes supposed to be thinking sensibly when all he ever _could_ think about was him?

So long story short, he lost his balance and pitched forward over the boxes. Several things happened very quickly after that— he tried to catch himself on Silas’ shoulders, expecting him to keep upright which he very much did not. Ryder landed on his back and Reyes landed on top of him, both laying there while the denizens of the docks watched on and waited to see if either of them were injured enough to rob.

There was a moment of silence where both of them got a firm hold on what had happened and where they had ended up as a result. Silas, of course, spoke first. “I don’t know what’s dumber. The fact that you fell forward or that I let you.”

“Too heavy for you, Pathfinder?” he asked, trying to sound casual. He propped himself up on his elbows, very carefully not letting his eyes leave Silas. Another benefit of his double life— _Reyes_ had pitched himself headfirst at Ryder, not the Charlatan. _Reyes_ was some unflattering shade of red, not the shadow king of Kadara.

“No, I— I thought you were jumping on me,” he admitted. “Didn’t realise you were throwing dead weight until it was too late to compensate.”

“Clearly _you_ are the more embarrassing one,” he teased. They really ought to have stood up and finished unloading so he didn’t have to bribe the captain to give them another hour, but he wasn’t quite ready to face the possibly-staring crowd.

Silas sat up and Reyes moved. The mood wasn’t quite there for him to be on Ryder’s lap. “Totally not the guy who wanted his tongue in my mouth so bad and fell the fuck over,” he returned with a laugh. He got to his feet and held out his hand to help Reyes up too.

“Well when you put it like that—” He let Ryder help him up, then pulled him back in now that kissing wasn’t particularly hazardous. Let the people of Kadara look— he was only Reyes Vidal, after all. The Charlatan would commandeer the shipment for its weapons and ammo (headed for the Outcasts and Collective anyway), and the rest would be given to the outpost by Sloane. _You’re making me do this so you can piss off with Ryder, aren’t you,_ she emailed back, as if she didn’t take Kaetus everywhere she went.

She wasn’t wrong.

**Author's Note:**

> [My writing blog is here](http://nebulaad.tumblr.com) and there's where you'll get some of my hot "fix it" opinions like "why the fuck do I have to kill Sloane just because the writers of this game are begging me to hate her? I didn't have vivienne and i dont hate sloane (same VA even jfc) so......" which led to the formation of this kind of non-canon world state where instead of waiting until Reyes is gone to exercise his new power over Kadara, Silas just stuff them into a get-along shirt (which isn't hard because they aren't fucking foils like reyes isn't the bad boy with a heart of gold and Sloane isn't a corrupt cop with a heart of ice, reyes specializes in smuggling and diplomacy through Keema whereas Sloane excels at combat movement and security so why not fucking have them work together for bonus viability).
> 
> Anyway, here's Reyes falling ass over apple cart trying to kiss Silas.


End file.
